Time
by SueQ
Summary: Longing for more time, Steve and Catherine try to make the final moments of their holiday last.


**No Copyright infringement intended. Hawaii Five-0, it's characters and it's premise,are the property of CBS. This is a fan produced story, written for the enjoyment of other fans.**

**Rated M for explicit sexual content.**

_AN - This was written several months before the pilot episode of Hawaii Five -0. This is a backstory, set before Steve McGarrett leaves for Korea, and before the events of the pilot episode._

**Time**

_Now that's a sight to greet the morning with_, Catherine thought, as she settled in to admire the view.

Dressed in nothing but a pair of white cotton skivvies; that did an excellent job of complimenting his recently acquired tan, Lt. Cmdr. Stephen J. McGarrett, stood in the middle of the hotel suite they'd called home for the last ten days, and hummed to himself. She smiled to herself as he sprayed just the right amount of starch on the white shirt that would go with the, fresh from the hotel's dry-cleaning service, Standard Dress Blues, that he'd hung safely on the back of the door. Then she recalled how good he looked in those SDBs, and her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. He looked good enough to eat in his uniform. In fact, he looked so damn good, she had to remember that she was also an officer in the US Navy, and it would be considered totally unbecoming conduct for her to swoon each time she saw him.

Even though she spent most of her waking hours around men wearing exactly the same uniform; many of whom would definitely rank high on any woman's handsome scale, not one of them had the same affect on her as Steve did. He held the power to send her internal barometer to boiling point with just a wink. When they were alone, she could forget about being United States Navy Intelligence Officer, Lt Catherine Rollins, and just be Cat. He made it okay to feel like a woman. To be soft and vulnerable, without fear of being seen as weak.

He picked the shirt up and held it up by the collar to check he had the right side facing him, and she ran her eyes over the muscles of his shoulders and back. As good as he looked in that uniform, he looked even better out of it. Not just good enough to eat, but good enough that you wanted to take your time and savour each bite. Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips as he leaned forward a little to spread the garment out on the ironing board. Only when he was satisfied that it was perfectly straight, did he reach for the iron to begin.

Smiling at the concentration on his face, she watched as he carefully pressed the underside of the collar from the point edges to the middle, then turned the shirt over, so he could repeated his actions on the other side. He picked the shirt up again, checked his handy work, then just as carefully folded the collar down, before pressing lightly with the iron so the fold would be more pronounced, and the collar would lay nice and flat against his neck when he put it on.

Of course, he could have had the hotel laundry do the shirt for him when they did the rest of his uniform, but that wasn't Steve's style. She knew from experience that this whole ritual was more than just a habit drilled into him since his OCS days, it was an ingrained part of his personality. She'd bet next month's pay he'd gone over those SDBs very carefully when they'd been delivered. Checked every inch, just in case there might be something they'd missed. He brought that same focus, and attention to detail, into every area of his life, professionally, and personally. It made him a first class officer, a formidable investigator, and an accomplished lover. Steve McGarrett certainly hadn't been her first, but for the life of her, right now, she couldn't remember the names or faces, of the few that had come before him.

Setting the iron down, Steve picked up the shirt, and turned to slip it on. Seeing her standing at the bedroom door, he quirked a brow in question.

"You're going to make someone a wonderful wife, Sailor."

He laughed. "Ah, so it's my ironing skills you were admiring."

Letting her gaze slide slowly down, then just as slowly back up, Catherine pushed away from the door. "Amongst other things."

"And do I pass inspection, Ma'am?" He asked, as he fastened the buttons down the front of the shirt.

Moving toward him, she picked his cap up from the table on the way past. "You're without your cover, Sailor." She said as she rose up on her toes to settle it squarely on his head. "That's a uniform infraction that will earn you an EMI."

His eyes twinkled as he smiled down at her. "Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but isn't an EMI supposed to correct a deficiency in performance?"

"It is."

"You're calling my performance into question?"

She pursed her lips, while her fingers played with the buttons. "I think I might need another example to be sure." She smiled.

He stayed her hands as she began to work the top button free. "Cat." The way her smile faded when her eyes met his, made him drop his forehead to hers. "I have a flight to catch."

Slowly, her hands fell away, and he watched as she squared her shoulders a little, before taking a step back. "I know." She gave him a small smile. "Seoul bound, right Sailor?" He nodded.

This was it. This was their relationship. The blissful high of being together, always becoming clouded with regret when it was time to part. They were the poster couple for the phrase, "ships passing in the night". It sucked, but it was what it was, for the moment. They'd both invested so much into their careers, and neither of them were ready to step back yet. He loved the part he played in keeping the world safe, and yes, he'd admit it, he got a kick out of chasing down the bad guys. He thrived on the adrenaline rush of it all. He was good at it too. That wasn't vanity speaking, that was just the truth. He was a chip off the old block. Like father, like son. Investigation was in his genes. She worried about him though, and she hated this, but then so did he. He only hoped she was aware of that. Hoped she knew how special she was, and that this was just as hard for him, as it was for her.

Reaching up to straighten his collar, she went up on her toes again, this time so she could place a soft kiss to his chin. When she stepped back, her bright smile was back, and she brushed her hand down his cheek before turning to retrace her steps to the bedroom. "What time's your flight?" She called out.

"Ten hundred." He called back, as he crossed to fetch his trousers off the hanger, but as he reached up, his hand froze, and he look at the clock on the wall above the flat screen television. His gaze went to the open bedroom door. He knew what she'd be doing in there. She'd be straightening the bed, picking up clothes and tidying up, all while she carefully began the distancing process. The sensible thing for him to do would be to just let that happen, it would make it easier on them both, but damn it, they'd had such an amazing ten days. That was a miracle in itself, that they'd both managed to get leave at the same time, never mind ten whole fucking days of it. He grinned. Ten whole fucking days just about summed it up too. He was no more ready for their time together to end, than she was.

He crossed to the bedroom door. "So, refresh my memory, I come off the freeway, and take Harbour Drive, that's the quickest way to the base, right?"

"No, that's the long way. You'll get caught up in heavy traffic on Harbour Drive." Catherine said, folding the slip of a dress she'd worn the night before. "You need to stay on the freeway until...," She looked up, and her eyes met his. The corners of her lips curved up as she dropped the dress on the chair by the window, "The 32nd Street exit, it's much quicker."

"How much quicker?" He asked, stepping into the room.

"I guess you could take, oh, thirty, maybe forty minutes off your journey." She said, coming around the bed to meet him.

"Which is it? Thirty, or forty?" He reached up and slipped a finger beneath the thin strap of her chemise.

"Well now, that's relative, isn't it."

"To what?"

He felt her smooth leg brush against his thigh as she stepped closer. "To how fast you're moving."

"Well, I suppose I could leave the hire car for you to return, and take a cab." He pushed the strap aside, so he could lower his mouth to her shoulder.

She sighed, and a shiver ran down her spine as his lips travelled across, then up the side of her neck. "Cab drivers do move pretty fast." She breathed.

"Huh hu."

"They're good at avoiding all the busy traffic," She started to unbutton his shirt. "And they do know all the short cuts. Could cut the trip by at least another ten, or fifteen minutes."

He lifted his mouth and gave her a mock stare. "See, there you go again, Lieutenant." He shook his head as he slipped the strap off her other shoulder. "I need the exact figures. Is it ten, or is it fifteen?"

"Well, it's hard to be exact, sir." She smiled, running her hands up his chest before shoving the shirt off his shoulders. "Is it really important?"

Steve stepped back to unfasten the cuffs. "It is, Lieutenant, it's really important. If you think about it, there's an extra ten minute window of opportunity I could have between forty and fifty, Sailor." He said, as he carefully slipped the shirt off, and lay it on a chair. When he turned back she'd let the silky chemise slide away to pool at her feet. His mouth watered at the sight of her in nothing but a pair of skimpy red panties. _God she's beautiful_. He could remember thinking that exact same thing the first time he'd laid eyes on her. That instant attraction grown the more he'd gotten to know her, and realised, that underneath all that beauty, lay a sharp mind, an even sharper wit, and a softness that made his heart swell, because he knew he was privileged, and she kept it reserved for him. He liked that. Liked the fact that when they were alone she let her guard down.

He watched her hands slide over hips, to the tiny strips of lace holding the underwear up. She slipped her fingers under and slid them down, just a little, just enough to tease him, but then she stopped, and asked. "Opportunity for what?"

With effort, he dragged his gaze back to hers.

Ten days, filled with laughter and loving, and here they were, the pair of them, desperately trying to steal an extra ten lousy minutes together, just because they both knew this was likely to be all they'd have for a long time. They joked and teased, pretended for the other person's sake that it didn't matter as much as it did, and suddenly, he didn't want that. They were going to be separated by 6000 miles, for god knows how long, and he wanted her. He wanted to really connect with her, wanted to surround himself with her scent, and her taste. He needed to feel her skin against his one more time before he had to go. Commit it to memory so it could tide him over till he could be with her again. Taking his cap off, he threw it carelessly on the chair with his shirt, and reached for her. "For anything you want, Cat."

As he pulled her towards him, she brought her hands away from her hips, and slid her fingers around the nape of his neck. "I want you, Steve."

Then his head dipped at the same time as she rose up on her toes, and their lips met, each branding the other with the heat of their kiss.

Cat wound her arms further round his neck, pressed herself closer just so she could feel him flush against her. So she could feel the sweet abrasion of coarse hair rub her chest when he filled his hands with her buttocks, and lifted her higher, grinding his pelvis against her. His low moan was answered with one of her own, and he spun her round, putting his hand out to brace himself from crushing her as they fell to the bed together. She whimpered in protest as the weight of his body shifted, and his lips left hers. Then she let out a sharp breath, her fingers thrusting into his hair, when she felt his mouth on her breast, and his hand slide beneath the barrier of her panties to explore. Each nip and pull on her sensitive nipple sent liquid heat spiralling through her body, turning her core to molten lava.

He smiled against her breast when his fingers slipped in, and he found her warm, wet, and so ready for him. He wanted hours, wished for the time to take her to the edge with his fingers, then his mouth; and longed for more than the few moments they had, so he could let her do the same to him, before driving himself deep inside her warmth, and climbing, climbing till they fell over the edge together. But they didn't have hours, the time they had together could be measured in minutes, and her body told him that she too felt the same urgency to make each second count.

He pulled away, and stood beside the bed, all his lust and want evident on his face. Knowing without words what he needed, Cat sat up, her lips kissing their way down the furrow of dark hair beneath his belly button, as she slid his white boxers over his hips, and down his legs. She looked up to see he'd closed his eyes, and his features had grown taut with concentration. She curled her hand around his length, smoothing her thumb across the blunt head of his erection, a soft smile of satisfaction lifting the corners of her mouth as Steve threw his head back. Letting out a moan, his fingers found their way deep into her hair when he felt, first her warm breath, then her tongue as she tasted. Then her mouth slid over him, and he gave himself over to the intense pleasure only she could bring.

She brought him close, over and over, till only the desire to make her feel the same joy held him from coming in her mouth. He pulled his hips back, and she looked up. "Lie back baby." She did as he asked. Then he dropped to his knees between her open thighs, and kissed her mound gently several times, as he drew the wisp of red silk and lace down her legs. When he parted her, so he could circled a finger through her moistness, she arched off the bed, his name a sibilant plea slipping past her lips. He answered her by lowering his mouth, and breathing in the scent of her, before pressing a kiss to her center. Then, greedy for her taste, his tongue came out to lave, and his hands held her open while she bucked beneath the onslaught of his mouth, teeth, and tongue.

Cat could feel herself climbing higher and higher with each sweep and swirl. She panted as the pressure built, pushing her closer to the edge. She wanted it to go on forever, and she wanted the sweet torture to end. He teased at the hard bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, and she reached down, pulling at his ears. "Now, Steve! Please, now!" She gasped.

Feeling the same urgency, Steve rose to help her further up the bed, then he lowered his body between her welcome thighs, and entered her with one quick thrust. Their eyes locked together, and he held her gaze, committing the look and the feel of her to memory, before his lips found hers, and they both began to move in unison. Rocking gently at first, they climbed the hill together, till it wasn't enough, and they both craved more. He pulled her leg higher on his back, then pushed himself up on his elbows. She arched into him, holding onto his shoulders, circling her hips, and meeting him thrust for thrust as he pounded into her, again and again.

Then they were there, her hips rising high to meet his, his sex buried deep inside, as her body gripped him tightly, and convulsed around him. He reared his head back, groaning his release at the same time as she cried out his name. On and on it went, her orgasm rolling through her body till she sank back into the bed, boneless and gasping for breath. Falling to her side, he gathered her close. Held her till his own breathing returned to normal, and he was able to turn and look at her. When their eye's met, they both knew they were out of time.

"Cat.."

A finger on his lips stopped him. "You shower, I'll call the the desk to arrange the cab." She leaned in and pecked him on the lips. "Shake a leg, Sailor. The US Navy waits for no man."

Steve grinned and pulled her close for a proper kiss. "Do you know how fucking amazing you are?"

"Pretty damn?"

He kissed her again. "Pretty damn doesn't even come close, Lieutenant Rollins, Ma'am. You are, off the scale, fucking amazing."

She grinned back at him. "Thank you." Then she smacked her hand against his bare behind, and said, "Now move, Sailor boy. Hit the shower. That's an order."

Even though he outranked her, he jumped off the bed, and stood to attention. "Aye, Aye, Lieutenant." Then he gave her a quick salute, before spinning on his heel and marching naked to the bathroom.

Catherine burst out laughing. "And that, Catherine, is why you will never give him up." She muttered to herself, turning to reach for the phone beside the bed.

As complicated as their relationship was, they both needed it. Though the time they actually got to spend together was short, it was always so damn good, that it made being apart almost bearable. She could tolerate it, and she would hold onto the hope that somewhere down the line, both she and Steve would be on the same path at the same time.

The End


End file.
